Touch
by Gater101
Summary: OneShot. In the life of John Sheppard, plans never did run smoothly.


Title: Touch  
Summary: In the life of John Sheppard, plans never did run smoothly.  
Characters: John, Teyla, Grae  
Pairing: John/Teyla, Teyla/Kanan  
Rating: K

In the life of John Sheppard, plans never did run particularly smoothly.

It had been his intention when he'd woken up that morning to share a quiet breakfast with the members of his team before embarking on a training session, attend some meetings with Carter and Caldwell and then perhaps return to his room to pack before heading out on his team's latest mission.

But as it happened, he'd awoken with the first dipping of the moon and when he'd made his way to the mess hall some sleepless hours later, his team was decidedly absent – in fact it seemed like almost all of the base was absent at this early hour. When he'd filled his plate, he'd been baffled by his choice of seat and he knew that the length of time he stood staring at the many empty tables was verging on the ridiculous when one of the doors swished open and in trotted a few scientists he recognised from piloting to the main land back on the old planet.

He eventually chose a seat just outside the balcony doors and picked at his food. There was a time when John Sheppard revelled in the quiet moments on Atlantis, when he'd actually have time to sit and think and ponder – to _breathe_. But the increased frequency of those moments had almost diluted their effects and, although he saw his team – his _friends _– every day, he missed them when they weren't around. He'd long since attributed that notion to the fact that soon – very soon, in fact – he'd be leaving Atlantis soon and he would see none of them for a very long time. He'd always enjoyed his banter with Rodney but now he found he intentionally riled the scientist up just so they could immerse themselves in Earthly jokes and childish name calling. He never particularly enjoyed being beaten up but found himself in the gym with Ronon, hopping around on one leg with a flag tucked into his waistband with increased regularity. He even found himself sitting around the recreation room with Conlin watching re-re-re-runs of the DVD's that circulated the halls of Atlantis.

He tried to shake off his maudlin mood, physically shrugging his shoulders and mentally shaking his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, tapping his bread against the edge of his tray to a song he thought he'd long ago forgotten. The pink dawn had only really begun to tint the horizon as John sat there, the almost warm breeze ruffling the black shirt he wore, tickling the hair on his head into an intricate dance that he'd long ago given up trying to tame. Breathing deeply, he let the fresh unpolluted air fill his lungs and rest there for a few long seconds before exhaling slowly. He could feel the city's calm creep through his veins and he relaxed into his chair.

There were a lot of things John realised he was going to miss; there certainly weren't sunrises or sunsets on Earth quite like the ones that he'd experienced on Atlantis. There was a certain reassurance in knowing that he was protected by a city that responded to his every whim. There was a certain security in having his friends around that John knew he was going to miss, but would come to terms with in time. As he licked his lips and tasted the salty residue, John realised he was going to have to buy a house near the sea.

No, scratch that, a _boat_on the sea

He knew that nothing would ever compare to the life he'd lead for the past six years. There were things so inexplicable that he was curious as to why he – and especially Rodney – hadn't lost his mind over the years. He supposed it had something to do with the bond that had formed between the group, knowing that the others survived kept them surviving. There were many things that John did when he felt like he might go a little crazy, from pounding down the empty halls of the farthest piers, to taking a Jumper out in the early azure mornings and chasing the molten gold that erupted on the horizon before his eyes.

He tugged his eyes away from the glorious vision before him and he almost smiled. He'd long ago resigned himself to the fact that there were certain things he felt in regards to Teyla Emmagan – hell, his actions over the past two years had been based solely on being those certain – but there was something about seeing her carrying her second child, Grae (named after, John smiled, his favourite book Dorian Gray – in fact, both her children had been named for him) that reinforced certain feelings that made him feel as though he was simultaneously being ripped apart from the inside out but so much like home that the earlier pain dulled in comparison.

He'd be honest and admit that things between himself and Teyla hadn't been as good as they had once been since Grae was born. There wasn't any one thing he could attribute blame to and he hated that, he hated that they had somehow simply drifted apart. He had at first attributed it to the fact that there was an incessant niggling in the back of his mind every time he was with her or Grae but he'd been willing to overcome that for her, if she needed him to. It was with bitter resentment that he'd come to realise that she didn't need him anymore, if she ever had and had been added to the ever growing list of reasons he'd opted to return to Earth.

Number one being his body's insistent reminder that he was, in fact, a mere mortal. And he was getting old.

He was on his feet and making his way through the mess hall before his brain had even registered that his body was moving. His brain also took a few moments to catch up to the fact that his hands had taken the squirming infant from Teyla's grateful – if not a little surprised – arms. He didn't say anything as he smiled at her in a way that wasn't quite uncomfortable. She caught his eyes for a moment before John looked away to the jiggling bundle in his arms. His smile grew when he saw the green eyes stare up at him happily, a gurgle of laughter passing tiny lips as minute fingers gripped onto John's dog tags. He still didn't know how the little guy managed to get the damn things out from under his shirt – he remembered a time not so many weeks ago where he'd been cradling Grae to his chest only to look down and find him munching happily on the solid metal tags. He'd almost had a fit and dropped him to the ground in his haste to extract the chain from between his fragile gums.

He continued to stand playing with the baby, marvelling at how small he still was as he waited for Teyla to load up her own tray. They didn't say anything as they made their way out to the balcony, and John was forced to adjust Grae's weight in his arms as he continued to squirm.

"He's full of beans today, isn't he?" He said to Teyla as he propped Grae up on his lap, tickling the plump cheek with one hand while the other steadied him.

"Yes, he is." She nodded in agreement.

When John actually looked at her, he realised how tired she really looked. Kanan had been off world on a trading come harvesting mission with a few members of the Athosians for over a week and John felt a little remorseful for forgetting that fact. Her eyes were puffy and dark, her skin pale. He resisted the urge to tell her to return to her room for a few hours sleep while he looked after Grae. He turned his attention back to Grae and pulled some faces, eliciting a few giggles from him before he started to squirm again. John leaned back in his chair and tucked the child into his chest, cradling him with one arm, the other hand resting flat against his against his back, moving in soothing circles around his back.

"Have you been a good boy?" John asked as he angled his head down to look at the startling hazel eyes staring back at him and he felt that darn tug again. He pushed it aside, though, as Grae grabbed onto his chains again and he raised an eyebrow at him comically. "I'm sure you've had enough to eat this morning, haven't you?" He glanced to Teyla who nodded in confirmation as she continued to spoon oatmeal into her mouth, a smile forming around her spoon. "Yes, you have. Why are you so grumpy today, mister? Hmm?" A breeze wafted past John and he shivered. He jerked his head in Teyla's direction, startled. "It's cold out here, isn't it? Maybe we should go inside?"

She smiled but shook her head.

"It is fine. I believe it is much warmer out here than it is inside."

John frowned, unconvinced.

"Even still..." He stood, readjusting Grae's weight again and plucked his jacket from the back of his chair and fitted it expertly around Grae's tiny body. When he looked back to Teyla, he saw the mildly surprised expression on her face and he suddenly felt sheepish. "What?" He asked as he sat back down, shrugging, his cheeks tingling with something reminiscent of a blush. She simply shook her head and smiled, before looking back to her food. "Well, just don't want him to get cold, do we?" He glanced to Grae who'd gripped onto his index finger, which John promptly shook, and smiled again. "No we don't, do we little guy?" Grae made a gurgling noise which John took to mean no.

The seconds wove into minutes and John embraced the silence. Even Grae was breathing evenly and had stopped squirming in John's arms. He picked at a few of the items on his plate, careful to avoid crumbs landing on Grae's now still head. These quiet moments he'd come to abhor didn't seem so bad, all of a sudden and John was surprised. The last time he'd been alone with Teyla things had been awkward and horrible and he'd convinced himself that they always would be now. But sitting there, on the quiet balcony watching the sunrise, sharing this moment, John felt anything but uncomfortable. In fact, if anything, he felt a little too comfortable.

And yet he daren't disrupt it.

He hadn't realised he'd closed his eyes until he opened them again and found Teyla's smiling eyes watching him and her son. He smiled in return, a sudden shyness taking over him. He glanced down and saw that Grae was sound asleep, his head resting on John's chest, while John's hand rested on his back, moving up and down with the tiny breaths.

"He looks very much like his father."

John studied the face but all he saw there was Teyla. He had Teyla's nose and general features, but his hair was darker and more unruly, his eyes a few shades lighter than Teyla's. He smiled quietly at Teyla and shook his head.

"I think he looks like you." He hadn't intended to whisper but it seemed his throat had deemed it appropriate.

"Perhaps." Teyla studied them for a moment and John began to feel uncomfortable under her scrutinising gaze. She must have sensed his discomfort because she glanced down to her now empty plate and sighed. "He seems to have taken to you," she murmured as she glanced back up, her fingers rising to tuck the jacket closer around his body and John smiled. She'd taken to motherhood like a duck to water.

Then what she said hit him and he couldn't help the smile that stole across his lips.

"Yeah." It wasn't the first time the little guy had fallen asleep in John's arms and John hoped it wasn't the last. He frowned slightly, at that thought; he had always thought he never saw much of Grae or Teyla but there were many incidents where he'd been in possession of the child – certainly enough for him to have created a bond with him.

"I remember my grandma used to tell us my grandfather could send us to sleep, just by laying us on his chest." Clearly, his brain had disengaged from his mouth again but this time, John didn't mind. "Sent us right off, like this little guy."

Teyla smiled contentedly and John wished he could see that smile more often. He shook the thought away and glanced back to the horizon.

"He must find your heartbeat restful." John smiled and nodded, although he could feel himself detaching from the moment. Things were getting far too close for his own comfort. He jerked slightly when he felt a brush against his fingers as Teyla's hand moved to Grae's head, smoothing the flicks in his hair. He could see the indecision on her eyes as he searched her face and he felt apprehension building in his chest. The moment seemed to drag on as she decided her next move and John both dreaded and awaited her choice. "It is very soothing." Her eyes rose to meet his and John was suddenly transported back to another time, another place where she had known exactly just how soothing his heart beat was. It seemed so long ago now.

He was entranced by the flicker in her eyes, the warm glow that radiated from her mellow features and he felt pleasant waves meander through his veins. Her fingers stilled on Grae's head and John knew they were staring. But he really didn't care. Something inside of him tugged and he felt words, _those _indomitable words rise up his throat, and dance across his tongue.

They never made it out though, as their happy parade was interrupted by the rain that was Rodney, Ronon and Conlin. It took a moment for their voices to penetrate the haze that surrounded them and he could feel the uncomfortable shift and he glanced down while her fingers quickly resumed stroking Grae's head.

It was when Ronon stared at him with an eyebrow raised in curious expectation that he felt something else he'd miss.

Deliberate and sure, delicate and soft, the stroke of her thumb over the back of his hand.

Yes, he realised, that was it; what he'd miss the most. Not the sunsets, or sunrise, or the banter or the constant wonder of the city.

No.

It was that.

The luxury of Teyla's touch.


End file.
